Night Four: Scott's Date With Death
by yousimplycannotdrinktea
Summary: He was on his last night of work, and he was ready to face the animatronics, armed with expertise and close scrapes he had with them previously. With a fiancé and a baby on the way, there's everything to lose. Will all their problems be solved in the end? Part Rebornivese, Paige belongs to mysticbaconslice. Chris belongs to Zombay-Senpai/Rebornica. Oneshot! Please Read & Review!


REUPLOAD, YAY!

Thanks you guys :) and a review is still wholly appreciated :D

DISCLAIMER: Reborniverse is rebornica's. Paige belongs to mysticbaconslice. Chris belongs to Zombay-Senpai/Rebornica.

* * *

"Have a good day!"  
Scott walked out of his comfy, cosy two storey house, waving to his fiancée Paige, as he set off for work at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.  
His mouth still vaguely greasy after Chinese takeout and fried noodles, he licked them in an attempt to savour the flavour of home. It was his last night, because he had a day shift tomorrow. I've got to get this one, he thought.  
He couldn't get stuffed now, with his girlfriend-heh, correction, _fiancé, _expecting. They needed the money!

* * *

Sighing, he entered the office, to a cosy looking boss, bundled up, ready to face the howling winds outside.

Taking off his coat, he hung it on the cheap hangers, which squeaked in protest at the sudden weight being forced upon it.

Nodding a 'hello' to his boss, he scurried over to the box of name cards.  
Scrabbling for the one which had 'Scott Cawthon' embossed on it, he hastily pinned it on his work uniform, which he had brought home to clean after a close scrape with Chica, that had left his hands bloody and his shirt even worse, and his pants even more worse, because fear can make you...well, suffice to say, damage a respecting man's pride.

"Hello, Scott, old bud! Last day on the job, eh?"

His boss chuckled, tossing the keys to his employee, who caught it effortlessly.  
Scott looked critically at his boss, then scornfully at the half rusted keys, then nodded.  
"Yeah. Look, thanks for putting me on the day shift tomorrow."  
"Yep. I've also decided to put you on the day shift for the rest of your work days-if you decide to stay, that is. That includes higher pay-and even more if you help with the kids. It's your call-and it saves me money."  
Scott nodded enthusiastically, his distaste for his boss momentarily dissolving, his face flushing with excitement.  
"Y-yes! I'll start next week!"  
"Good, good."  
"Uh, one more thing?"  
"Hmm?" Boss muttered distractedly, lighting a cigarette.  
"My fiancée is pregnant, and-"  
"Yes, yes, I expect you want your week of paternity leave. Very well."  
"T-thank you!"  
"No problem, Scott. M-Mahogany? Dear, come along now."  
"Oh, she's here?"  
"Yes-I had to do a bit of paperwork, and she offered to tag along."

As Mahogany came near her father, a surplus of thoughts flooded his mind, remembering what happened last time they had properly crossed paths.

* * *

She was certainly not as pretty as the last time he had seen her, around the time when they were all younger, and she still had her feisty daughter, Violet. The little girl was always a scarlet letter, her father unknown, and Mahogany would never betray his name. Scott had asked Vincent once on his opinion, but he just coughed behind his fist and said he didn't know, like everyone else. Scott had thought this rather odd, but decided not to press the issue.

After losing her daughter, Mahogany had lost some of her vim and vigour, which had obviously rubbed off of Violet. She had cowered at home, after the murders had taken place. It hurt so much to try to tell the girl he once had a crush on in primary school, not because he still harboured those feelings, but simply the pain of telling her that he knew who murdered the sunshine of her life. Taking a quick detour, he'd shown Boss the footage-not the big cheese just then, just a lowly mechanic, and let him deliver the devastating news.

It was truly fascinating to see the anger, grief and rage settle on her face, and her decisive snatching of her crimson pocket bag, the tape and grabbing of Scott's wrist, slamming the door shut on her father's surprised face, slapping the evidence on the police officer's table, thrusting a finger at Scott's exasperated face as she demanded him recount the footage, sniffing haughtily as the officer pardoned him from the unnecessary task, nodding in approval as they went to Vincent's house.  
What happened next was, well, really, sadistic.

The way she threw herself at him was shocking.  
When they got to his house, Mahogany stamped over to the door, Scott dithering in the background, stabbing the door bell countless times, until a drowsy Vincent answered the door.  
"Eh? M-Mahogany! How are you-"  
He was cut off by Mahogany's enraged howls as she slammed her palms into his chest, Scott's mouth curving into an 'o' as she proceeded to beat him up.  
"You-you bastard! You murdered ou-my child! How dare you! You don't deserve to live! You BASTARD! You f-" she shrieked, until she was restrained, with some difficulty.  
It took Scott and three police officers to restrain her, actually.

After that had happened, and they got Vincent in handcuffs in the front, and Mahogany in the back seat, he fled.  
He really couldn't bear it.  
Seeing them both fight.

Of all the times he had seen them both together, he had perceived them as friendly to each other, to a point where he used to think that they harboured romantic feelings toward each other. Alas, he had even become briefly jealous, but that had died away with time. But watching the police car drive away, that incredibly damaged his ire.

It had greatly recolored his and Mahogany's opinions of Vincent, and he had regretted it, but now there were no regrets, no egresses as to what he and Mahogany did. They had to bring justice to little Violet, and the others who were murdered. Scott used to usually see them around once a month when he used to work the day shift-he remembered a few things about them.

Frederick, the brown haired boy who had damp curls, and was almost always in the water, liked Freddy the most, which was strange, in Scott's point of view, because a child who liked the water as much as he did-would typically like Foxy, but that made him like Frederick more, because it made him even more unique. Maybe it was the namesake, because the name Frederick sounded an awful lot like Freddy-and they certainly resembled each other- brown hair or fur, and warm brown eyes.

Sophie was the shyest of the bunch; her dark red-almost purple hair was always in ratty, long pigtails; and they seemed to match her soulful, wistful blue orbs.  
Her favourite was Bonnie, and she also seemed to have a knack for playing the guitar-especially a certain red, electric one.  
Bonnie always liked to let little boys and girls play her guitar, but she almost always asked little Sophie.

Tan had unruly and tufty dirty blonde hair that stuck up like a duckling, with subtle black eyes to match. That might have been the reason he preferred Chica, and eating her Cheesy Supremo pizzas the best, but he always had an insatiable appetite, and would go through several slices every visit.  
He had his own Let's Eat! bib, which he wore especially proudly at Freddy's. Even when Tan went out, he wore the bib-Scott knew because he bumped into the little kid and his mother at the supermarket once.

Violet-he knew the most about her. She had piercing violet eyes, the very thing she was named for. She had scraggly, unruly long ebony hair that could never be tamed how many times her mother tried to-bows and clips didn't make a dent.  
Her favourite restaurant was Hot Topic, although Freddy Fazbear's came at a close second.  
She was feisty, cheeky and fiery, to the point where she would argue with other children and adults a lot, but her worst enemy was Mike Schmidt, because of one reason-Foxy the pirate.  
She adored the animatronic so much, she was so sure that she was his first mate, was Foxy's favourite, and girls made a lot better pirates than boys, and whoever said otherwise was going down, which led to frequent spats with Mike. She was aggressive, and was willing to go against Mike physically, which led to her to be banned from Freddy's for a month, and she was forced to give back the stolen Foxy plush from Mike. Mahogany was even more protective of her little girl after that, but she always apologised to the Schmidts when she saw them, and she would lightly smack her daughter on the head when she was about to argue.

And the last one, Faith...that little girl was a matter of a mystery to him. She was secretive, and timid, but she was easily the most placid of the bunch. With her straight, no nonsense black hair and lively blue eyes, she was distinctive, in her own right, but to make her stand out even more, she always wore a pretty blue bow in her hair. Her favourite was definitely Golden Freddy-until he was scrapped. She did hanker after Freddy for a while, but...she didn't get to like him the most for very long, suffice to say.

* * *

"-yeah, and...Scott?"  
Scott was jolted from his plentiful thoughts as Mahogany lightly cuffed him on the shoulder.  
"S-sorry, I was just flashing back a bit."  
Mahogany's eyes darkened slightly at this, but she decided not to push him.  
"Oh, okay then. Hey, are you and Paige both available next week?  
"Yeah."  
"Do you mind if we have a lunch together? You know, catch up on old times-I don't mind if Chris comes, he's a sweet kid, that one. Is it okay?"  
"Sure, Mahogany. Great idea, actually."  
"Cool bananas. See you-and good luck on the job! My dad really should pay you more." she commented, nudging her father, which got her a 'yeah, yeah.'  
Scott nodded.  
"Have a nice night!" he called lightly, as the sense of distress grew, as he looked at the clock.

11:45 pm.

The smiley Freddy Fazbear face printed onto the clock reminded him of what a night he had to go through.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Scott settled himself reluctantly into the hard black plastic of his chair, which was usually especially hard, but today it felt like lowering himself into a pit of lava.  
Sighing, he took out his phone from his scarf, and proceeded to speed-dial Paige.  
ring, ring  
ring, rin-  
"Hello?"  
"Paige, it's me!"  
"Scotty! How are you doing?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen-just in case I don't make it-a thief does something nasty-you've got my bank account password, right?"  
"Yes-but Scotty, you'll be okay? You're my strong man, and you'll be fine!"  
"Uh, yep, Paige! I'll fight them off as best as I can-I promise!" Scott chuckled nervously, flipping open the tablet to the Show Stage.  
She would never know he meant it.  
Fighting something off-albeit not robbers, but killer animatronics.

He had had to fight off Foxy quite a few times, and Chica as well...they were the aggressive pair, he figured, since their attack patterns were similar, and their triggers weren't exactly difficult to trigger.

"Bye, Scotty! See you soon! I love you!"  
"I love you too, Paige, my panda."  
"Scott!"  
"Ha, ha, nini."  
click~  
Putting down his cerulean scarf and phone, he picked up the tablet, feeling the cool metal in his hands, and flipping it on.

Taking a glance at Pirate Cove, he sighed, flipping his tablet down.  
After a short pause, and a tentative squeak of Freddy's nose on the backdrop of 'Celebrate!', he flipped it open again, to the Show Stage.  
He checked for them: there was Freddy, Chica, and-  
Where was Bonnie?  
Panicking, he switched over to the Dining Area, where he saw the lavender bunny, between the tables with pre ordered party hats.  
Oh, no.  
They were on the move.

The night had officially started.

* * *

"Ugh-I should probably start recording soon...I'll give it another hour." Scott muttered, sifting his hands through his messy hair.  
Flipping the tablet back and forth quickly, out of boredom (and to keep Foxy at Pirate's Cove, because his servos were triggered by the flipping of the tablet, and he reset almost every time Scott flipped the tablet, rendering him unable to move that much, let alone run.), he fiddled with his name badge before leaving his chair, and going to get a cup of water.  
As he did, he pressed the West Hall blind spot light, out of habit, and saw...  
Bonnie, leering at him from outside.  
"OH MY G-GOD! GODDAMNIT!"  
he screeched, stabbing the button, slamming the door shut.

Panting, he collapsed back into his seat, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Checking the monitor again, he saw he had 87% power.

Not that good-after all, it was draining faster now Bonnie had decided to loiter outside his office.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed again, then flipped the door open briefly, checking to see if Bonnie had in fact, left.

_Please be so lucky as for him to leave!_

However, the hope vanished like mist on a hot day as Bonnie's demonic face sneered at him from outside.

Quickly slamming the door shut, he groaned, then proceeded to fiddle with the tablet more.

-time skip till 2am-

Chica was on the move.

As Scott flipped back to the Show Stage, he could see only Freddy Fazbear was still there.

Flipping over to Pirate Cove, he could see that Foxy was peeking, thinking about leaning to the left for a run.

_Well, not yet, not on my watch._

Hurriedly checking the lights, he checked as Bonnie advanced, and flashed the lights for Chica and saw nothing-he closed the door as Bonnie advanced even more, and flashed the lights for Chica as another paranoid precaution, but saw nothing-**yet**.

78%-he could still make it, hopefully.

This was one of his better runs…at least this was better than yesterday, where Bonnie and Chica were both here, Foxy was bent on a run and Freddy Fazbear wound him up and kept him on a run for his money until the very last minute.

He felt just a little more reassured-until Chica's taunting face pressed on his East Hall Corner window.

"MY GOODNESS-GOODNESS GRAVY! What-how, how are you here?"

He closed his eyes, and he screeched out loud.

God, this was a real midnight oil burner-and the candle was the power.

75**%, **74**%...**

* * *

The hour started with Scott's head in his hands, his hands in his lap.

He was currently holed up in his chair, with the night going down.

The power wasn't doing any better-and he hadn't thought to pick up a foot pedal power generator from the hardware store.

Groaning in frustration, he flicked back to Pirate's Cove…

…where Foxy had left.

"GOOD GOD-WHAT ON…WHAT THE HELL!" he shouted, fumbling with the tablet, flapping it down furiously, before slamming the West Door shut.

_Thump thump thump thump…_

The searing noises of Foxy making his dash to the Office made Scott panic, and he just curled up in his swively chair, paralysed, as Foxy reached the Office and banged his hook and metal fist on the door, robbing a little bit of the meagre power he had.

64**%, **63**%**...

Hurriedly slamming the door on Chica's loitering figure, he started to think.

Really, really think.

That he wouldn't make it.

He would die.

Leave Paige behind.

Abandon her-and their child.

_You're a failure, _a voice hissed, cruel and teasing.

_You're nothing but a failure. You are leaving your fiancé and your unborn child to die._

_Without you, they'll starve._

_Without the money, they'll die._

_They'll be put in-_

"Shut **up**!" Scott snarled, his face contorting with fury.

No, he wouldn't let them starve.

"Get through this night!" he spat, thrusting a fist in the air, yelling as loud as he could, making the building-or at least, the Office, shake with the force of his fury.

Gritting his teeth, he flipped the West Door open, so that the power could be conserved.

Glaring at the insolent expression on Freddy's face, he flipped the tablet down again, and up again, hearing the taunting _hurr hurr hurr _emit from the Restrooms.

Glancing at the camera, he could see Freddy sneer at him from the Women's Restrooms, where the light was suddenly dimmed.

"Heh, hiding near the _women_'s bathroom? What a pervert." Scott sniggered, trying to keep his spirits up.

Hurriedly flicking to Pirate Cove, he could see that Foxy was sneaking a crafty peek, but he wasn't the largest threat-for now.

_Should I record the message?_

Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

He already had plenty problems, he didn't need to add to the stress of managing these guys.

Sighing again, he tried to cheer himself up again.

Remembering him, Paige and Chris going camping, and Chris singing loudly and off tune, and how he had to wear headphones for two days because his ears still smarted.

The simple memory made him smile, and he gripped the tablet, with a renowned determination.

* * *

That burst of happiness he had around 3:50 had dissipated.

Leaving this heap of a disheartened person in its place.

"I'm not sure anymore…" he muttered, as he looked at his halved power percentage.

41**%**, 40**%**...

Closing his eyes again, he thought about what had happened in the past half hour or so he had time to himself.

Bonnie and Chica had both paid a visit to his door, and after that Freddy, that sneaky bastard, had moved around the pizzeria stealthily, and he had to glare at him for the longest time.

And Foxy was one step closer to smashing his sorry arse and hook against his door.

It had been one of the worst hours of his life.

"Argh!" Scott cried, slamming his head on the desk, momentarily stopping the metal fan.

With an annoyed face, he slapped the fan, and with a cough and a spurt of protest, the fan buzzed back to life.

It didn't help his state of mind.

What could he do?

He had so little power, and he hadn't recorded the message, so…

_Might as well…_

And now, with such low power…he had to record his message.

As a last resort.

But first…

_ring, ring…_

_ring, rin-_

"Hello?"

"Paige, it's me."

"Scotty! Unh, it's four thirty two in the morning! Is…is something wrong?"

He scrunched his eyes closed, and nodded.

_Everything's going wrong._

"No, everything's fine, panda. Sorry for waking you up."

"That's fine…you seemed a little tense just there, are you sure everything's spick and span?" Paige fretted.

"Y-Yes, everything's fine, sweetheart."

"Good! I hope you'll be home in time-I ordered some pizza!"

"For breakfast? Heh, we should have that all the time!"

"True, but it's expensive. Hopefully that pay check will pay off! Ha-ha!"

"Uh, speaking of a pay check, my boss has given me a…promotion, of some sort. I'll be working a day shift, instead of the night shift. I'll get more money, too, so that's good, right?"

"Oh my gosh! Scotty! I knew you were going to get a promotion soon! Congratulations!"

His face warmed at the thought-after thirteen years of dating and engagement, he still blushed when Paige complimented him.

Flipping the tablet open, he saw that Freddy had moved again, flooding his ears with the menacing _hurr hurr hurr _noise.

"Thanks, Paige! Uh, I have to go now-"

"Are you sure there's nothing I have to worry about?" Paige intoned, her voice steely.

"Uh, no, nothing, no thieves tonight, heh! Have a good day!"

"Are you _sure_?"

Her voice seemed to be _mildly _interrogating him.

"Yes! There's nothing to fret about, or worry, seriously!" Scott babbled, a thin bead of sweat running down his face.

Paige wasn't the easiest girl to fool-he'd learnt that the hard way when he'd gone to a bar club party with Vincent instead of a study group with her when they were all still at university. She'd been mad for weeks, because he'd accidentally ditched her. He could still feel the place where she had yanked and tugged at his hair, and pummelled his-no matter.

"Very well-good night, Scott!" her serious voice was replaced by bubbly enthusiasm.

"Night, Paige." he sighed.

_click_

Scott's brow furrowed in concentration, trying to hold onto the last piece of her voice.

"Where did Freddy get off to, now?"

Flipping the tablet on again, he quickly did a quick sweep of the pizzeria, finding him in the East Hall Corner-oh rats!

Hurriedly closing the right door, he gasped, panting in shock.

That _really_ had scared the nightlights out of him.

Hearing the unceremonious _clash _and _bang _and _rat-ta-tat-tat _of Chica foraging in the Kitchen, he groaned.

That chicken-or duck, he could never figure out, but most probably chicken, was too obsessed and in love with her pizza, so obsessed that she had to make a racket at 4am in the goddamn morning!

Booting up the recording system, he leaned back on his chair, rubbing his temples.

He was interrupted by Bonnie glaring at him from the West Hall blind spot, causing him to shriek and slam the door.

Just another friendly reminder that there was never a moment where you were calm, working the night shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

23**%**, 22**%...**

The power decreased sharply, like a ticking bomb that was about to explode.

* * *

Successfully booting up the scratchy recording, he cleared his throat, and started to speak shakily, the red light flashing, beckoning him to share his tale, all the while reminding him how scarce his power was.

"Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day 4, I knew you could do it-" he started, his tone jolly, until he heard the _thump thump thump thump _of Foxy making his death jog.

Hurriedly slamming the door down, he continued.

"Uh, hey, listen, I…I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow-" he said shakily, as Foxy's banging sound filled the Office.

Clearing his throat, he continued.

"-It's-It's been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kind of glad that I recorded my message for you, uh, when I did." he rasped, clearing his throat again.

Peeking out of the door, he could see that Foxy remained at his door, twitching and squirming.

_What?_

Panic rose like a tide in his chest and throat, and he began to speak hesitantly.

"Uh, hey, do me a favour."

The banging of Foxy's hook against the large metal door cut him off, the fear rising again.

He knew he was going to die, so…

"Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits, in the backroom?"

"I'm going to try to hold out until someone checks."

Repeated bangs from Foxy hurt his head.

Foxy was trying to bang his hook and metallic fist on his head, using his head as a drum, probably using ESP.

16**%, **10**%**...

"Uh, I-I…I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there." he stuttered, his nervousness getting the better of him.

As Freddy's menacing Toreador's March flooded the building, Scott hurriedly closed the East door, muttering something along the lines of 'stupid bear'.

Hurriedly flicking up the tablet to the East Hall Corner, he quickly skimmed around the pizzeria, his power rapidly decreasing, because both the doors were closed.

"You know…"

Quickly opening both doors, he speedily opened the tablet, doing a speedy round of the pizzeria. When he got to Pirate Cove, rasping noises that belonged to Chica made him sweat profusely.

After flicking to the Dining Hall, the rasping noises stopped. Swapping to Cam 2B, moaning replaced the rasping. Bonnie had got in.

_Oh, no…_

In a heartbeat, the moaning noises had stopped, causing Scott to lower his camera, until…

He realized that he had made a worse, **far worse **mistake.

* * *

"No-no!" Scott yelled, desperately trying to flip open the tablet, but he couldn't. He'd run out of power!  
He could only wait until 6am. Before him, Golden Freddy loomed over his desk, slumped over like a harmless plush toy. But he was far from that. Scott knew, from the few close scrapes he had from that sucker.

Desperately, he looked at his watch. 5:57 am-he could make it! Looking up from his watch, he could-

"Oh, NO-"  
ROAR-  
The once slumped over animatronic activated, and lunged at Scott, dismembering him with a single whack of his colossal paw.

Scott lay there as Golden Freddy roughly tried to stuff him in the suit. Both his legs lay paralysed on the floor.  
Earlier, the impact of Golden lunging at Scott had caused the right door to be slammed down, and Scott's legs to be smashed roughly against the iron doors.  
His right arm drooped uselessly, too broken to use. The young man lay there, too exhausted and overwhelmed to fight back.  
Previously, he had tried to punch the golden bear into submission, but after a while, it didn't work, so he let Golden work away at him, all the more curious at why the other animatronics had left him alone.  
So this, this is how I'll die. What a stupid death, he thought. He thought about Paige, the little boy or girl he'd never see. How he has failed them so, so badly.

Mike Schmidt, the new night guard he'd never really meet. He hoped that the four messages he had left him had helped him, and saved him from the same fate as his.

Chris, his best friend, who looked up to him so much-who'd he'd never talk to again, or help out-what if he got hurt again?

And Vincent...he'd always regretted sending his former best friend to his death, but-he'd never let him get away with that. There was a time where he'd thought he was gay for him-but...no matter.

Heck, he even thought of Boss. That skimpy, frugal asshole. But the job he had offered him was a rope to hang on, something to look forward, and something more to live for.

5:57. he thought. I was so close, damn it!

He didn't want to know how badly injured he was-his skin-from what he could see, was dotted with cuts-most of them probably infected, both legs and right arm were useless.  
_Is this how I die_? he asked himself desperately.  
He was forced to confront that the answer was yes.  
R-roar-SCREEEEEEE...  
As Golden Freddy slammed his mechanical paw into his head, he blacked out.  
The last thing he heard was faint chimes and a chorus of children's cheers.

_Goodbye, Paige. I'm so sorry._

* * *

Scurrying into the Fazbear diner, Chris wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead.  
"I hope I'm not late, it's just turned six am!" he hissed to himself.  
Sighing and shucking off his coat, he was pinning his badge onto his freshly ironed shirt (he had to bring it home after he had cleaned Bonnie. Man, that guy was a mess!), when he heard the faintest of moans.  
"What-what's up with that?" Chris shouted, his face turning pale.  
"Who...who is it? Why are you here?" he shouted even louder, his voice getting higher and higher.  
A soft groan made him tense again.  
Following the now irregular noises, he got to the office.  
I thought Scott had left? If...if he did, then what's in the office?  
Chris thought to himself, while grabbing a mop.

Creeping around the corner, mop in hand, he turned the west hall corner to see...  
Scott-choking and crying out weakly.  
"S-Scott!" Chris gasped.  
"U-unh..."  
"What happened to you?" he asked, his fingers fiddling for his cell.  
"Golden got me-"  
"Heh, so the great Scott's down? I thought that you were unbeatable-" Chris joked, trying to keep his friend's spirit up.  
"Dude-I'm losing it. I'm dying...tell Paige-" Scott choked, before falling silent.  
"Woah, Scott! Don't die on me, please!" the younger boy gasped, panicking.  
He hurriedly dialled 911.

"...hello? Yes, my friend has had a terrible accident-he's passed out, both legs seem to be broken badly. Our address is Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, 22 Fazbear Street-yes, that's the one-"

-•-  
"Mr Cawthon? Can you hear me? Mr-"  
He awoke.  
"Oh! Mr Cawthon-you're awake."  
Scott blinked his eyes open.  
Where was he?  
"Mr-Mr Cawthon?"  
He turned his head, a redheaded nurse was standing next to him.  
"Are you okay? Do you feel dizzy?"  
"No, I feel like crap. Does Paige know?" he croaked.  
"Do you mean Paige Carter?"  
"Y-Yes, that's her. W-who brought me here?"  
"We got a 911 call from a Chris Hollister, sir."  
"Oh, man...Chris was the kid with the mop? Okay...that's weird-"  
But again, his friend was the janitor, that would make sense...  
Suddenly, a knock came at the door, followed by a flurry of conducing knocks.  
"Scott? Scott?"  
His senses perked up at that oh so perfect voice that belonged to his fiancée.  
"Dude, you okay?"  
That was Chris-his best friend who had saved his life.  
"Come on in!"

He was quickly buffeted by a huge hug and a kiss from Paige, who clung to him like a vice, running her hands through hair and whispering sweet nothings against his ear. Chris stood awkwardly next to his hospital bed, rubbing his neck timidly.  
When Scott spoke, it was first inaudible, then they couldn't understand the flurry of words spilling from his mouth. The third time he spoke, it was a bit better.

"Chris-Chris, I don't know how to thank you-you saved my life. I know I would have died if you didn't call 911 that morning..."  
"N-no problem, bro. Friends help each other, right?" Chris stammered, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.  
"Chris! Thank you so much for saving Scott's life! I don't know how to repay you-so I'll give you a hug for starters!" Paige squealed, wrapping the nineteen year old in a hug and nearly suffocating him.  
"Paige-careful with Chris!" Scott called, but he was laughing too.  
Chris was smiling, too, but that was ruined when a phone call came. When Chris saw who it was, his smile was wiped clean off his face.  
"Who is it?" Scott said worriedly.  
"Well...I have been in debt and I haven't been able to pay off my rent. L-Last week, they came to my place..."  
"Mr Hollister." A menacing voice came out of the receiver.  
"Don't tell me you've gone to a loan shark!" Paige exclaimed.  
"N-Never!"  
"Your time is up. It's been a week, and you haven't been able to pay any of your bills off."  
"B-But...I just need some more time-"  
"We've given you an extra week. The authorities will be here in a few hours. Please pack up your things-and get out of the house. It's not yours anymore."  
Click.  
Chris held the phone despairingly, and broke down.  
"I'm gone...I don't have a home anymore-what shall I do? I can't go out onto the streets..." Chris whispers through his sobs.  
"Chris." Paige's gentle voice jolts him from his sobs.  
"Stay with me and Paige." Scott intones, patting his friend on the head.  
The younger man's eyes glassed over.  
"W-what?"  
"We can take you in-"  
"But you guys are expecting a baby! You-you don't need another boy to look after..."  
"Chris-we have two spare bedrooms-we've got loads of space. Plus, you're in school-you shouldn't be worrying about housing just yet. You need some help, after your parents...yeah." Paige said soothingly.  
"That's how we can repay you for saving my life." Scott adds, joining in.  
Chris's face flooded with relief.  
"Are...are you sure? T-thank you!"  
Paige and Scott both smiled broadly.  
"Welcome to the family, Chris."

* * *

FIN


End file.
